


The Grand Instrumentalist

by melodramatic



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: AU, Crying During Sex, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orchestra/Symphony, Self-Loathing, Skin Condition, suidical thoughts, vitiligo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramatic/pseuds/melodramatic
Summary: No one could play the piano quite as well as Tyler Joseph could.





	1. Chapter 1

The patches on Tyler's skin didn't appearing until he turned fourteen, as if that was the magic number. And even then, they didn't bother him all that much. They didn't hurt, they weren't overly dry, and they were so light that the only time they ever caught Tyler's attention was when he stared down at them to play his piano. 

"What's that?" Tyler's sister asked him one day, pointing to a spot on his hand. He continued to move his hands along the keys of his piano, looking carefully at the sheet music in front of him.

He shrugged, "Not sure."

She sat down next to him on the small stool, and bumped their hips, silently asking Tyler to scoot over.

"Maddy, I'm practicing," He said sternly, stopping the song and facing her. 

She kept her eyes focused on Tyler's hands, but she was so young that Tyler disregarded any weight her gaze might've held. 

"Why do you have these?" She asked, pointing to his hand yet again, and ignoring the annoyance in his tone.

"I just told you, I don't know." He was starting to get even more irritated as he thought of all of precious practice time he was wasting. Auditions for the school's symphonic band was tomorrow, and he was going for the advanced class audition, despite the fact that the section was usually reserved for juniors seniors, and he was only a freshman. 

He was confident in his abilities - he knew he'd get in. The piano had been his best friend since he first learned to move his fingers. One could say he knew his piano better than he knew himself.

His little sister blinked up at him and contorted her face, "It kinda makes you look like a cow."

Tyler looked down at his hand. It was oddly shaped, after all. And it wasn't the only spot he had, either. He had a few forming at the base of his legs, and every now and then when he got out of the shower, there seemed to be a new light patch on the back of his neck, or his forearm.

At the moment, though, he had been wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, so all his little sister saw was the one on his hand that was lighter than the rest.

He looked back up at his sister, "I don't look like a cow. That's rude to say."

"I didn't say _you_ look like a cow," She said, pointing back to the spot on his hand, "Just the spots look like cows."

Tyler yanked his hand away from her and shoved it into his pocket, standing up from the stool.

"Hey, where are you going?" Maddy asked, getting up from the stool and following him.

Tyler stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. His sister knocked on the door.

"Go away, Madison!" He shouted. 

"Looking like a cow isn't a bad thing, Tyler, don't be such a baby!" She shouted back.

Tyler chuckled at the last sentence.

He took his hoodie off and inspected himself in the mirror. The white spots seemed to jump out at him in ways they hadn't before. He never really cared about them - didn't think they were that big of a deal. He could've been wrong, though.

He pulled down his sweatpants, and studied the spots on his feet and legs. 

Three spots on two feet, four spots on two hands, one spot on one neck, and - oh god there was more when he turned around. Some were bigger than others, some whiter than others, but they were all disliked equally. 

"What are you two fighting about?" A familiar voice asked from just outside the bathroom door.

"Tyler's turning into a cow, mom." The sentence was very poorly whispered. 

"Maddy, don't be ridiculous," She scolded. 

"But, mom-"

"No, that's rude. Apologize to your brother."

There was a few seconds of silence, and then a small knock at the door. Tyler pulled his sweatpants back up and put his hoodie back on before cracking the door open a tiny bit. 

"Sorry, Ty," a small voice said. The had her hands crossed, and her lips pouted - a sure sign that she wasn't actually sorry.

Nontheless, Tyler accepted her apology. 

He came out of the bathroom, and shut the door slowly. He looked up at his mother who was standing there, watching Tyler with careful eyes. She could read him like a book, and was acutely aware of his too-slow movements.

"Is everything okay, Tyler?" She asked.

He nodded.

"Can I show you something, actually?"

"Of course, sweetie."

He held the bathroom door open for her, and when they were inside, he took his hoodie right back off, and his mother froze. 

"Look," He mumbled, pointing to a few of the spots on his shoulders, his hands, and his feet.

Her hands gripped Tyler's shoulders and she spun him around, looking at his back, his feet and then taking his hands, inspecting them closely. 

"Chris!" She shouted through the bathroom door, "Come here!" 

"How come I never noticed these?" She asked, mostly to herself. Tyler simply shrugged as his father entered the small bathroom. It was cramped and Tyler wished they could do this somewhere else.

"Look at these, honey," She said, pointing to the spots on Tyler.

"Woah. How did these happen?"

His mom made a face at him, "That's what we're wondering. We should take him to a doctor, shouldn't we?"

Chris shook his head, "We can't right now, remember? My job just transferred me to another school, and the insurance won't kick in for another week at the least."

His mother sighed.

"They don't hurt at all, do they?" She asked. 

Tyler shook his head, "No. They just look weird."

Both of his parents looked at each other, communicating silently.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to deal with it until we can get you to a doctor. Sorry, sweetheart."

Tyler shrugged, "That's okay."

They exited the bathroom, and his father put an arm around his shoulder, asking how his practice was going. Tyler said it was going fine, and when his father mentioned how he sounded really good, it hardly registered. He was suddenly bothered by the patches all over his skin, and he wondered how he could get rid of them. 

When he went to school the next day, the temparature reached a high of 75 degrees, but Tyler never took his jacket off.

....

Tyler got into the band. He was one of the best that had auditioned that year, the teacher told him. 

Tyler had his hands in his pockets and thanked the man. They practiced early in the morning, on every other weekday, "So make sure to bring gloves, 'cause it gets pretty cold in here. They haven't fixed the heating yet," his music teacher advised, referring to the classroom. 

Gloves. That was a good idea. He should wear gloves. 

"Okay. Thanks again, Mr. Urie," He said, picking his backpack up from the floor and slinging it onto his shoulder. The man's eyes flicked from Tyler's face to his hands, and his gaze lingered a tad bit too long for Tyler's liking. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," Tyler said, leaving the classroom. 

Gloves sounded like a very good idea.

....

Tyler tried his best to keep himself busy. He buried his mind in music sheets, tempos, and staccato-ed beats. He tried his best not to watch his own skin morph before his eyes.

It was hard, though, when he was constantly looking down at his hands. But when he bought a pair of thin gloves that hid the mess on his skin, he didn't feel any better. He still didn't raise his hand in class, and still shoved his hands in his pockets at any given chance. 

Because it was only getting worse. 

It took him awhile to notice it (he didn't look in the mirror very often), but when he did, his entire heart sank into his stomach. He leaned his body over the kitchen sink, bring his face incredibly close to the mirror. He had small white patches forming at his scalp, and then there was a barely-there spot that was starting to show itself around Tyler's left eye. 

He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his fist at the mirror in anger.

So instead he sighed deeply, and went straight to his piano, where there was no mirror to give him hell. 

Because gloves weren't enough for long. They hid the spots on his hands, but they didn't hide the spots around his neck, or his face. 

And when people engaged Tyler in conversation, all he could do was nod and smile, because he knew they were staring at his infliction. They thought they were discreet, but it didn't take long for Tyler to distinguish a real conversation from a filler conversation that mostly involved the other person trying to figure out why his skin was spotted. 

His parents understood why he didn't leave the house much anymore. They didn't bother him about it - didn't push him to get out and do something even on the weekends. 

Tyler was greatful. Really, he was. He was greatful that his parents understood why he couldn't just let people's lingering stares "not bother him." 

He wasn't one for conversation anymore. 

He wasn't one for socialization anymore.

His piano was the only thing that made sense to him anymore. He still had his bass and his ukulele, but he let those collect dust in the corner. Nothing made him feel quite as isolated as his piano and his black gloves.

Even when he was the only one in his room, or the only one in his whole house, he kept his gloves on. 

It just made sense.

....

P.E. was Tyler's least favorite subject. Not only was he no good at any of it (basketball was the only exception), but he was far too exposed. His school didn't allow anyone to wear sweatshirts or sweatpants when it got too hot, due to one of the student's almost dying from a heat stroke a few years prior. 

So Tyler's only option was to wear shorts and a T-shirt, and it made him want to cry. 

But he only actually cried once.

It was on yet another sunny day, and Tyler was getting dressed for P.E. along with the other kids in his class. Everyone else was getting dressed in the locker area, but Tyler always headed straight for the bathroom stall. He already had the other kids giving him weird looks for the spots on his arms, legs, and face - he didn't need them to look at his torso, too.

Two other kids walked into the bathroom, but neither went into a stall. Tyler peeked just below the bathroom door and recognized one of the pairs of shoes. It was the same kid that was in Tyler's algebra class with him, and they got along pretty well, actually. The kid was rather nice, and Tyler almost considered him a friend. 

"Dude, look at this zit on my face," The other kid said, walking up the mirror, "It's fucking huge."

"Are you serious? It's not even that bad."

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing? Of course it's that bad! There's no way I take Amy out this weekend if I have _this_ thing on my face!"

Tyler looked down at his hands. He stopped changing and sat down on the toilet bowl, feeling rather tired all of a sudden.

"It's fine, she probably won't even notice."

There was a second of silence.

"Hey, it could be worse," Tyler's friend said.

"How?"

"You could look like Tyler, from my math class. That dude's got it way worse than a fucking zit."

Tyler almost wanted to laugh. Here he was, trying to avoid odd looks from people by changing in a closed space, yet there was still no way around it. Gloves or no gloves, Tyler had it "way worse than a fucking zit."

"Oh, is that that kid in our P.E. class, too? The one with the spots all over his skin?"

"Yeah, him."

"Damn, I'd hate to look like that. Poor guy. He looks like some sort of fucked-up Dalmation."

Tyler's friend laughed, "Yeah, he does. I heard he can play the piano like nobody's business, though."

"Well, you gotta be good for something when you look like that. You know what I mean?"

Their footsteps started again, and their conversation got quieter as they left the bathroom, heading out to the blacktop as the class started. 

Tyler still sat on the toilet, his head now in his hands. 

_"He looks like some sort of fucked-up Dalmation."_

A short series of tears began to fall from Tyler's eyes and he bit his lip, trying to keep silent. His heart wasn't broken, and it wasn't sunken into his chest, but it felt... hard. As if it was no longer a muscle, but frozen bone.

_"You gotta be good for something when you look like that."_

Tyler's stomach was in knots. There was no way he could go out and participate at school like he regularly did. He - he just couldn't.

He took his phone from his pocket and pressed the first contact in his phone.

"Hello?"

"Mom, can you come pick me up from school, please? I don't feel very well."

"What's wrong?"

"My stomach hurts."

There was a sigh on the end of the line. "Alright. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? Wait for me in the nurse's office."

Tyler didn't wait in the nurse's office. He changed back into his regular clothes and took his things, heading to the front of the school where his mom always dropped him off. When she pulled up, he told her the nurse's office was locked, and he couldn't get in.

She believed him, because she didn't really have a reason not to. 

When Tyler entered the house, he went immediately into his room. He tried desperately to avoid the mirror, but it was in vain, as he got up a mere seconds later to inspect himself. The white around his left eye was only getting more and more visible by the day, and they were right. He did look fucked up.

The spot was misshapen, so it wasn't a perfect circle (none of the spots were), but it still resembled something of a dog, or maybe even a cow. 

And he hated the fact that he couldn't stop tears from burning the back of his eyes and blurring his vision, so he could no longer see his reflection. 

Maybe that was for the best. 

He went into his room and layed down, and he never touched the glass of water his mother brought to him.

....

For the morning band practices, Tyler wore gloves, a scarf, and a beanie that he pulled down to just right above his eyebrows. And it was nice, because he was justified - the room was cold, and over half of the people in it were adorned in similar attire. 

And when they played shows at their school, or local stadiums, nobody questioned Tyler's clothing. Most of their concerts were relatively cold anyway, as they tended to take place after the sun set, and/or in air conditioned venues. 

It was a Saturday evening when Tyler put his gloves on, tied his scarf tight, and pulled his beanie low. He was more covered up than the rest of the band, that was for sure, but he was not particularly out of place. Everybody was dressed in black for head to toe, according to their dress code, and Tyler blended in nicely. He loved it. And he loved it even more when they all took their positions on stage, because his piano was always placed towards the back left of the stage, so he was not the center of attention by any means.

Nobody noticed him, but that didn't mean he didn't notice anyone in the crowd. 

Many of them were parents, friends, other students, and faculty members, but for their bigger concerts, they had people in the crowd who simply wanted to treat themselves and their dates to an affordable symphony. 

Tyler's parents were there for each and every concert, but that was not who his eyes searched for. 

It was a Saturday night when Tyler noticed (not for the first time) the boy with bright red hair in the crowd. Sure, his hair was attention-grabbing, but that wasn't why Tyler searched for him every concert. 

The boy always seemed to arrive alone and leave alone, which was something people hardly did when they came to see a high school concert. 

He was there from the second concert, and never seemed to stop coming after that. And he always sat on the same side that Tyler's piano faced.

 But whenever Tyler made eye contact with the boy, he quickly looked away. As if he didn't want to be seen. 

Tyler found it odd, but then again, he did the exact same thing. So he couldn't blame him.

It was on a Saturday night that Tyler was standing backstage, nursing a cold cup of water that had gone lukewarm.

"Is everyone ready?" Their conductor/teacher asked them, looking around at everyone. 

The group picked up their instruments and lined up the same way they had practiced for hours on end. They each took their assigned spots, and Tyler went towards the back and sat behind his piano. He was ready to play. He was ready to let his brain melt onto the keyboard, and let the spots on his skin fade away, only for them to come back even more prominently after the concert. 

Tyler looked down at his gloves and played. He didn't need the sheet music - he never did. He played the same way he had practiced, and then some. 

He closed his eyes and let his fingers find the notes themselves. He let G, D, G, D play itself, and he listened carefully as F, D, C# stood proudly and conquered the crowd. 

And when he opened his eyes and turned his head towards the crowd, a familiar figure with bright red hair was staring directly at him. Only this time, he didn't look away, and he didn't look uncomfortable. He looked how Tyler felt. 

He was confident, collected, cool.

And when the concert was over, they bowed, and Tyler's assuredness fell back down. 

He was conflicted, confused, crushed.

The boy was gone before Tyler could find his way back into the crowd. He found his parents and they tried to catch his attention immediately.

There were scouts at the concert, they told him. The scouts wanted to speak to him, they asked for the boy on the piano specifically.

"How old are you?" A man asked, shaking his hand. He had been one of the scouts that asked to speak with Tyler, and he was flattered, but nervous.

"I'm fourteen and a half, sir."

The man laughed heartily, "Fourteen and a half? That's oddly specific, isn't it?"

Tyler shrugged and tightened his gloves around his hands.

"Well, either way, you're a very talented young man, Tyler. Word really gets around when talent sprouts so quickly."

The man handed him a brochure and a business card, telling him to give him a call when he was old enough to sign a contract. Tyler nodded, and when he turned back to his parents, he asked if they could go home. 

"Aren't you excited? You just had someone try to recruit you for a professional symphony!" His father said, as they were in the car. 

Tyler looked out the window the entire time, his eyes catching on every red traffic light, and every red brake light. 

He shrugged, "Yeah."

His mother looked back at him, "Are you okay, Ty?"

He nodded, "I'm fine. Just tired."

His mother made eye contact with his father, and they shared a sigh before they both turned their heads back to the road. 

He really was fine. He was just tired.

And when Tyler's eyes caught sight of himself in the reveiw mirror and his stomach churned, he decided he was _really_ tired. 


	2. Chapter 2

The pianist attended college alone and left even lonlier. He still woke up early for band practice, and went to bed late as he practiced in his dorm. His roommate was a rather deep sleeper, so he tended not to mind when Tyler would stay up for hours long after the sun had set, usually practicing one bar or one song over and over again.

"I swear, you're like, Mozart's reincarnation or something," His roommate, Damien, confessed one night, as he sat on his bed, listening to Tyler play. 

Tyler chuckled, "Thanks, but not exactly. Mozart was six when he started playing in public. I was eight."

Damien's eyebrows shot up, "You were only eight when you started playing music in public? I didn't even know what music was when I was eight."

Tyler laughed, shaking his head. It was a ridiculous statement, but it still made him feel a bit better. 

Damien stood up from his bed, heading to the mini fridge, and getting himself and Tyler a soda.

"I still can't believe you wear those gloves all the time," He said, taking a long gulp from the can, "It's hot as fuck outside."

Tyler shrugged.

"Don't you miss seeing your own hands?" He asked. He was joking - it was apparent by the light infliction of his words, but Tyler's expression was cold as steel when he looked back down at his keyboard.

"No," He responded simply as he continued to play the song he had paused. Damien must've gotten the hint to stop talking, because he only paused for a few seconds before plopping back down onto his bed and reopening his textbook. 

And the rest of Tyler's college years were relatively similar. He only ever left his dorm for class, and for the occassional party that his roommates insisted he go to. They all started and ended the exact way, and more often than not, Tyler found himself chalking the night up to yet another waste of time. The only reason he ever agreed to go more than once was because he could usually get a one-night stand out of it. 

He didn't mind it at first, but it became a little tiresome when his partner would be gone by morning, or if they weren't, would wake up Tyler's side, and a string of curse words would ensue as they got up and got dressed as quickly as they could.

No one ever left a note, no one called, and no one made eye contact with him if they saw him again in a class. 

And he was definitely _not_ bothered by the fact that he seemed to be better drunken-sex material than relationship material. 

Thankfully, Tyler was flooded with offers to play in symphonies by the time he was out of college. 

He ended up choosing the Cleveland Orchestra to play in, because not only was it one of the highest rated symphonies he knew, but it was right at home. 

The lead composer shook Tyler's hand, and let him know that they were honored that he chose to join their family. They had been following his progress in the newspapers for quite sometime and were so excited to have him on board. 

Tyler smiled politely, and no one questioned his overdressed attire. 

....

Tyler's first show as part of the Cleveland Orchestra was nerve-wracking, but good nonetheless. He played well, like he always did, and the lead conductor smiled brightly at him at the end of the show. 

But Tyler looked into the crowd. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew he'd recognize it once he saw it. 

And it wasn't until an hour after the show had ended, that he saw it. Most of the band had left, but there was still a few people scattered about. Some were cleaning, some fixing equiptment, and others simply standing around and chatting. Tyler had gone back to sit at his piano on the now-empty stage with a crowd full of what had become nothing except empty chairs. 

He fixed his scarf and coughed, looking down at his gloves. His fingers clenched around the tough material, and he looked around. The only people left were far away from him now. 

He took his gloves off, and his hands were soft, but still stained. The spots had only gotten more obvious over time, and he couldn't help but think about the spot around his left eye that was such a contrast in color from the rest of his skin. 

And as he put his fingers on the keyboard he thought of dalmations, he thought of cows, and his fingers pressed A#, C#, A#, C#, G#.

He had hardly started the song when his ears began to burn. He had been exposed too long. Someone was watching him, he knew it. He put his gloves back on and turned around.

"Is that an original?" A man asked, once he realized he had been spotted. He came closer to Tyler, and from a short distance, he almost looked familiar. 

"Um," Tyler tightened his gloves, "Yeah. Sorry, I didn't know anyone was listening."

"Don't apologize. It sounded really good," He said, and he took another step closer. Once he came into the light, Tyler's brain clicked.

"I know you," He declared, standing up.

The man looked shocked, "Really?"

"Yeah. Your hair used to be red, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I haven't dyed it red since high school, though." He took a piece of fringe and inspected it, as if he had forgotten that it was now blue. 

The pianist shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks, "I'm Tyler Joseph, by the way."

Josh pushed his fringe back and chuckled, "I know. I'm Josh Dun." And when Josh realized that Tyler didn't extend his hand for a handshake, Josh put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

Tyler looked back towards his piano and his index finger twitched. 

"Y'know, I remember seeing you at each of our band's shows. Back in high school," Tyler said. 

Josh seemed to perk up a bit, "Really?"

Tyler nodded, "Yeah. I always recognized that head of red hair."

Josh laughed and instinctively reached up to run a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah. I loved the shows. You guys were really good." 

Tyler smiled at him, and when Josh smiled back, he looked away, remembering the undesirable spots on his face. He shouldn't have been looking at Josh head-on. He knew better. 

"Are you..." Josh looked towards the piano, and then back at Tyler, "Are you going to be here all night?"

Tyler shrugged, "Nah. I, actually," Tyler picked his bag up from where it rested next to his feet, "I was actually just heading out. It was nice seeing you again, though," Tyler said, shouldering his backpack. 

"Yeah, nice seeing you again, too. I work for the stadium, so I'll probably be seeing you around," Josh said.

"Okay - until then," Tyler responded, giving Josh a friendly smile. He got into his car and plopped into the driver's seat, taking in a deep breath. Josh was nice. Really nice. 

But Tyler still tightened his gloves and pulled down his beanie when he got home, and there was not enough niceness in the world that could change that. 

....

Josh was there the next show, as he said he'd be. He helped set things up on stage, and at point, he went up to the box above the crowd and messed with the lighting. 

Tyler was sat in one of the back recreation rooms, a cup of tea in his hands. 

And in his mind he thought of 3/4th beats, and the same keys he had been playing last time he ran into Josh.

"Hey," Josh greeted, walking to the fridge and taking a bottle of water. 

Tyler nodded back in greeting, trying to hold onto his thoughts.

Josh looked at him carefully, and Tyler turned his attention down to his cup of tea.

"Are you okay?" Josh asked, coming closer. 

Tyler nodded, "I'm fine. Just tired."

Josh pursed his lips and looked around the room. It was rather spacious for a recreation room, but then again, the entire stadium was rather spacious, so the room wasn't out of place. With one microwave sitting on the counter, an oven that was hardly ever used, and a stove that had seen better days - it was one of the warmer rooms by far. Which is why Josh didn't understand Tyler's rather excessive winter clothing. 

But, Josh was raised by a curteous mother and a well-mannered father, so he knew not to ask about it.

"I heard you guys are playing a new song tonight," Josh said, taking a small pill from his pocket and placing it on his tongue, taking a long gulp from his water. 

Tyler watched Josh's throat bob, "Yeah, we are. 'S just another Vivaldi piece."

Josh nodded and looked back down at his water. 

"Wait," Tyler said, quirking an eyebrow, "Where did you hear that? Only members of the orchestra itself are supposed to know about the new addition."

Josh looked at Tyler and shrugged, "It's really easy to over-hear practices when you help set up the stadium."

"You can recognize a classical peice by ear?" Tyler asked. He wasn't going to lie, he was rather impressed. 

Josh nodded, "Yup. I was all about music. I played everything - classic, classic _rock_ , pop - all of that. But," He subconsciously itched his left arm, "I got into an accident awhile ago. I can't really play much anymore."

A moment of silence.

"But, I can still listen. One of the perks to working here, I guess." He downed the rest of his water and tossed it in the trash across the room, wincing slightly, as if that simple action caused him pain. 

"Is that why you were always at the concerts in high school? To listen to the music?" Tyler asked, afraid he was already asking Josh to answer too much. 

Josh nodded, "Yeah. Freshman year was the year of my accident. So... yeah."

Tyler's scalp itched, and he pulled his beanie down so that is was just above his eyebrows. Josh didn't hide the fact that his eyes followed Tyler carefully, but he also didn't say anything. 

And Tyler was already surprised that the man hadn't mentioned the spot around his eye yet. 

"Sorry to hear that," Tyler said. And even to his own ears his tone sounded dead. 

Nevertheless, Josh shrugged, "It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it now."

Tyler looked down at his cup of tea that was getting colder and colder by the moment. He wasn't really in the mood to drink it anymore. 

He looked back up at Josh who was already facing him, but before he could say anything, one of their many clarinet players poked her head around the corner of the room.

"Tyler! C'mon, it's only a few minutes before we go on!" She left just as quickly as she came, and Tyler sighed, standing up. 

Josh turned to him, "Hey, um. Are you doing anything tonight? After the concert?"

Tyler thought of how badly he wanted to go home and just lay in bed, with the covers covering his entire body. 

So he didn't know why he shook his head. 

"Would you, maybe, wanna come back to my place?"

When Tyler hesitated, Josh put his hands in his pockets.

"I have Netflix," He mumbled, as if that was a selling point. 

Tyler laughed unexpectedly, and Josh's face brightened a bit. 

"Okay, sure-"

"Tyler! Let's go!"

"I'll see you after the show, Josh."

 Josh nodded, and bit his lip, trying to hide a very strong smile. Tyler left the room, and when they got out onto the stage a few minutes afterwards, Tyler lost himself in their songs. He had a solo halfway through, but his fingers did not touch A#, C#, A#, C#, G# - no, but they still played better than most people's. Tyler stood up and bowed, and the clapping of the audience was welcomed, but overwhelming. He had his coverage on, but was still far too exposed. 

When he took his place behind his piano once again, his heart slowed down and his breathing became more regular.

And when halfway through the show, he noticed Josh watching the orchestra with dialated pupils, the pianist's heart started to play it's own song - one he had never rehearsed before.

He looked back down and focused on the keys he was meant to play.

The concert ended like it always did, a roar of applause and even a few standing ovations. Each of the instruments were great individually, but collectively, they were more than great. 

By the time Josh had finished his after-show duties, and Tyler had finished his obligations as well, it was well into the night. The outdoor air was a sharp cold, and everytime Josh made Tyler laugh, the cold air fit itself through the gaps in his teeth and dove into his lungs. 

Tyler shivered, but Josh turned the heater on the second they got into his car. 

The drive wasn't too long (only about ten minutes), and they spent the entire time talking about the set that Tyler's orchestra had played. 

But when Josh unlocked the door, their mode of operation changed drastically.

"Want a drink?" Josh asked, taking two beers from his fridge and handing one to Tyler, and keeping one for himself. 

"I don't usually do this, just so you know," Tyler said, as Josh popped the cap open for him. 

"Do what?" He asked. But the way he looked at Tyler told him that he knew exactly what Tyler was referring to.

" _This_ ," Tyler said, clinking their glasses together and tipping his head back to take a swig. Josh stared wide-eyed at Tyler, but only for a second, before he was copying the action himself. 

Tyler knew he shouldn't have had more than two beers, being as though he wasn't exactly a large man, but he was already three beers deep when Josh was yanking his beanie off of his head and shoving him against the wall. 

"Why are you so covered up?" Josh asked, untying his scarf as well. Once the scarf fell to the floor, Josh started kissing down Tyler's neck and - _fuck_ , he forgot how good this felt. 

"I feel better when I'm covered up," He admitted. Josh looked up at him with saddened eyes. Normally, Tyler would've looked away, but something in his system was telling him to be bold. 

Josh traced one of the spots on his neck gingerly.

"You shouldn't cover these up."

Tyler grabbed his hand, taking it away from his neck.

"Don't." He demanded.

Josh look confused. "Don't what?"

"Just..." Tyler thought for a second. Rather than having to explain to him the reason he felt the need to cover up in the first place, he grabbed Josh by the sides of his face and kissed him hard. 

Josh hesitated for only a second before he started kissing back, with just as much force. He peeled Tyler's jacker off, and his hands found their way under his shirt, feeling all around, and Tyler let out a deep sigh. 

"Take your gloves off," Josh mumbled, hardly detaching his lips in the process. 

Tyler didn't think twice to take them off and let them drop to the floor. 

Josh grabbed Tyler by his hips and lead him to the couch where they undressed each other fully. Josh broke off the kiss to pick his jeans up and root through the back pocket to take out his wallet. 

"You keep condoms in your wallet?" Tyler asked, propping himself on his elbows so that he could see what Josh was doing. He let his hand wander down to his shaft, and he pressed down with his heel, unsuccessfully trying to conceal is eagerness.

"Yeah," He responded, "Don't you?"

Tyler shook his head. Josh just shrugged, and then made his way back up to Tyler. He started kissing him again, and pushed lightly at his chest so that he was flat against the couch. Josh let out a small moan as he rolled the condom against himself, and thrust into his hand once. 

"Wait," Tyler said, just as Josh was lining himself up. He turned around so that his ass was in the air, and his back was facing Josh. 

Josh said nothing, just kissed one of Tyler's largest spots between his shoulder blades, and then began to insert himself slowly. Once he was all the way in, he started to thrust harder and faster, and Tyler put his hands in his own hair, tugging just enough to keep him grounded. 

Josh moved his body so that he was right over Tyler's back, adding even more heat. He put his arm diagonally across Tyler's chest, his palm splayed across the front of Tyler's shoulder, and with his other hand he held the arm of the couch, so that he had enough leverage to hit Tyler in just the right spot each time. 

" _Fuck_ , Josh," Tyler moaned, stretching his own hands onto the arm of the couch. Josh groned deeply in some sort of reply, and Tyler pushed back with his hips, so that Josh went even deeper than he already had been.

The pianist cried a choked-off moan as Josh took his hand and began to stroke Tyler's cock, going just as fast as his own movements from behind. 

Tyler began to curl in in himself, but Josh's arm held him tight so that he stayed upright. He bit his lip as a long-forgotten knot began to untie itself in Josh's arm. 

Tyler cried out as his thighs shook, and Josh's thrusts got sloppier until he was also coming undone right on top of Tyler.

" _Fuck_ ," Josh groaned, as he seperated from Tyler, and they both collapsed onto the couch side by side. 

Tyler put his arm over his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to collect himself. His eyes were sqeezed shut, but when a hand was gently placed on his arm and slowly removed it from over his eyes, he opened them. He looked over to the left where the man beside him placed his hand on Tyler's cheek. 

He just layed there for a second, scanning Tyler's eyes.

"What?" He asked. 

"Nothing," Josh said, leaning forward to tenderly kiss him. 

They had been kissing a mere few minutes ago, so this one shouldn't have troubled Tyler in any way. But it was different. There was no longer a sense of urgency, or an overt intention behind the kiss - it was soft, and hinted at a sort of romance Tyler had never experienced from his other one night stands. Really, it was everything Tyler would expect from a date. 

Except this was hardly a date. 

He pulled away, taking Josh's hand off his cheek. 

"I have to go," He claimed, getting up from the couch, and picking his clothes up. 

Josh sat up and watched Tyler silently, as if he was expecting him to confess that he was only kidding.

He wasn't.

"Why?"

Tyler tugged his shirt and pants on, "I just - I have to go."

Josh stood up and walked over to Tyler, placing a hand on his forearm, "Did I do something wrong?" His words were so sincere, and they were like toothpicks in Tyler's lungs. 

"No, you didn't. I'm just not feeling well." Tyler took his arm back and continued gathering his things. 

"Tyler-"

"I'll see you later, Josh."

He left through the front door so quickly, he merely stuffed his scarf and gloves into his pocket, and cursed to himself when he remembered that they took Josh's car. He started walking in the direction of the stadium that they had come from, his body shivering from the dry cold that turned his nose red. He pulled his beanie down as low as it would go, and crossed his arms, and he did not let his brain think of how warm it would've been had he just let himself stay in Josh's arms. 

By the time he got to his car, his hands were so frozen that simply turning the ignition proved difficult. He took his scarf and gloves from his pocket, and threw them onto the passenger seat. Of course, though, he turned the car on just to find out it was almost empty. He wouldn't even be able to make it home on the lack of gas. 

The nearest gas station was just down the street, though, and Tyler silently thanked whatever deity might've been up there to hear him. 

He walked inside and went straight up to the register, pulling out his wallet. There was a small group of teenagers in the back of the station, but Tyler paid them no mind.

"$25 on island three, please."

 The cashier rung him up silently, and there was a sudden lack of conversation in the air from the group of teenagers behind him.

Tyler turned around to see that one of them had her phone pointed at him, as if she were taking a picture. The second she noticed he turned towards her, she put her phone down, and guilt was written all across her face. 

Tyler only kept his eyes on her for a second, and his neck burned where his scarf usually was. He took his reciept from the cashier, and headed to his car. 

He pumped the gas as quick as it would let him, and when he got in the car, he was not sad. He was not angry.

But he still couldn't stop himself from wanting to jerk the steering wheel to the left in the middle of the road. But he didn't. He drove straight. 

In the shower, he thought of sitting down and letting the hot water fill his lungs until he couldn't breathe. But instead, he scrubbed extra hard on the parts of his body he hated the most. 

In his bed, he wanted to test how deep his veins were, and how deep one could cut before the blood evacuation would tell him to cave in. But instead, he took a deep breath.

In his bed, he looked up at the ceiling. There was no ceiling fan - only a very cheap light. He thought of the ceiling fan in his living room, and was curious to know if it could hold his body weight. But instead, he closed his eyes and sniffled.

In his bed, he fell asleep, but it was far from a peaceful slumber.

....

The next day, Tyler did nothing, but the day after the band met to practice for another show later in the week. 

Josh was there (of course he was there) to help unload and set up their new sound equipment. 

Tyler went into the rec room when their break, and he warmed up a cup of tea. He was on the edge for some unbeknownst reason, and he just needed a reason to settle down. He hummed the lyrics to A#, C#, A#, C#, G# while he stirred sugar into his tea. It was already a bit calming, and he was starting to feel a little better. 

"Hey, Tyler."

Tyler jumped, spilling the tea all over the front of his sweatshirt, "Shit!" He cried.

"Oh - oh my God, sorry," Josh said, reaching down to pick up the now empty cup. 

"I didn't mean to scare you," He said.

Tyler grabbed some paper towels from the counter and dabbed his sweatshirt, trying not to press the scalding hot liquid onto his chest. 

"It's fine, it's fine," Tyler replied. He didn't look up at Josh, though, he just continued patting his chest.

Josh tossed the cup into the trash can, but he didn't motion to do anything else afterwards. He simply stood there, until Tyler looked up at him.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

"About the other night."

"What about the other night?"

" _Tyler_."

Tyler huffed and put the napkin down, steeling his face to look at Josh.

"I was just sort of confused. As to why you left the way you did."

Tyler flicked his eyes to the floor, and he wondered if the tea was going to stain the cheap carpet. 

"Like you were in a hurry or something," He continued.

"I already told you. I just wasn't feeling too well," And Tyler was lying through his teeth.

Josh kept his gaze fixed on Tyler. There was no anger in his face - only sincerity and sympathy. Tyler thought of the other night, he thought of Josh kissing him and he knew that the kiss tasted exactly how Josh looked. Sweet, soft.

Tyler's heart beat irregularly in his chest and it was so about to overflow with a feeling he couldn't even accurately identify - he wished he were at home, so he could cry.

"Was it my fault? Because-"

"No, no, it wasn't your fault. You were really good," Tyler took a slow step closer, and he knew he had Josh's undivided attention, "Like, _really_ good." 

He stood on the tip of his toes and pecked Josh lightly right beside the lips, "Can I come over again tonght?"

He placed his hands on Josh's chest, and the man bit his lip, any animosity in his gaze being long gone. 

"Yeah," He said, placing his hands on the back of Tyler's elbows, "I'd like that."

Tyler smiled and kissed him again, taking a few steps back when a few other people entered the room. 

He gave Josh his number, and promised to text him when he was done. Josh didn't have his question answered, but he began to realize that he didn't mind all that much. He was going to see Tyler again tonight - maybe he would bring it up then. Maybe not. 

But when they entered Josh's house, and Tyler took him by the collar and kissed him hard, it was not on his mind. Nor was it on his mind when he was on his back and Tyler bounced himself up and down on Josh's length, letting out sounds even he himself had never heard before. 

Josh's hands gripped Tyler's thighs tightly as he shot everything he had into a condom. 

But when Josh layed down next to Tyler, and held him close, the pianist confessed yet again that he had to go.

He let Josh kiss him on the lips, and Tyler assured him that everything was fine - they just had had a really long practice that day, and he was tired.

"You can sleep here," Josh offered. 

But, no, Tyler couldn't. He had to be up early in the morning, and he wouldn't want to wake Josh up. 

Josh wouldn't mind.

Tyler disagreed.

And this time, when he left, he made sure to put his gloves, scarf, and beanie on even though he was headed straight home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( Just for clarification: A#, C#, A#, C#, G# are the first notes to "Goner" [Blurryface version] ))


	3. Chapter 3

As the days went on into weeks, into months, A#, C#, A#, C#, G# seemed to be the only keys that Tyler would press when he wasn't practicing for a concert. Those keys would tranform themselves into more of a song, and before he knew it, he was writing the notes down on a blank sheet of music. 

He poured his soul into just a few, simple lines of lyrics, and they were so dear to his heart he was afraid the walls would judge him for singing it aloud.

So he didn't. He played the notes with his fingers and imagined the lyrics in his head, and then he'd look to the ceiling and ask God if he was listening. But the pianist looked away before he could hear God respond - he was deathly afraid of the answer. 

He tried not to let that weigh on his mind for too long, though. Instead, he would call Josh and ask him if he was busy. He was never too busy for Tyler, as each and every time he would let Tyler come over, use his body as a distraction, and leave before the sun rose.

And each and every time, Josh would ask him to stay.

One night was special, though.

It was the night that Tyler invited Josh over to his house for a change, and he showed the man the song he had been working on. He told himself it meant nothing - he would show the song to any lending ear.

He didn't sing the lyrics, but Josh payed attention nonetheless. 

"It's beautiful," Josh confessed, his eyes full of emotion. He was standing right behind where Tyler was sitting, and he could feel his body heat spreading over his back. 

Tyler shrugged, "It's not much. I'm still working on it."

Josh put his hands on Tyler's shoulders and kissed the top of his head, where some of the hairs were starting to go grey. He wasn't wearing his beanie today, nor his scarf or gloves. And Josh couldn't have been more greatful.

"I love it," Josh said quietly.

Tyler put his hands under his thighs, and looked up at Josh. Those words were far too close to another phrase that he was sure he didn't want to hear. 

Tyler pursed his lips and Josh chuckled, before softly kissing him, a smile being transferred from his mouth to Tyler's. 

"Thank you," Tyler replied, just as quietly. 

Josh kissed the lid of Tyler's left eye, and Tyler bit his lip, willing himself not to start crying. Josh was so sweet, so soft with him, but the pianist was anything but. He let himself use Josh as a simple distraction, and tried to harden his heart when Josh would ask him to stay the night. Because Tyler never stayed. Not that he didn't want to - there was just an underlaying feeling that slowly made it's way through his veins - slowly like molasses - and if would tell him that staying was a bad idea.

But maybe tonight would be different.

Tyler stood up and faced Josh, kissing him passionately, and Josh's eyebrows raised in shock. He reacted quickly, kissing Tyler back with just as much force, and pushing him agains the wall. Normally, Tyler would've wanted it rough. But maybe tonight would be different. 

"Wait."

Josh immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Tyler with an inquisitive look on his face. 

"I wanna do something... different... tonight. If that's okay."

Josh nodded, "Of course that's okay. What do you want to do?"

Tyler put his arms around Josh's waist and brought him in slowly, kissing him softly. Josh followed Tyler's actions, wrapping his arms around the man's neck, and kissing him back with the same pace. 

They stayed like that for awhile, just softly kissing against the wall, making quiet noises every now and then. The moon was high up in the sky at this point, but the clouds blocked it's rays, and small beads of water fell from the sky, and pounded against the walls. Winter was showing it's truest form this day, as they only had a week or so before the day of Christmas arrived. The occasional roar of thunder combined with the rain drowned out the thoughts in Tyler's head that were just much too loud, and he was thankful for it. 

"Take me to bed," Tyler asked, even though it was more in the form of a statement. 

When Josh disconnected his lips from Tyler's, he could see a subtle hunger that was lingering behind his eyes, and all it did was make Tyler's cock twitch from where it already stood hard in his pants. Josh grasped the back of Tyler's thighs and picked him up, taking him towards the bedroom.

He layed Tyler down gently on his bed, and kissed him gingerly, his hands still tightly gripping Tyler's thighs. He knew he'd have marks in the morning from the way Josh was holding him, but he also knew that he wouldn't mind. 

Tyler placed his hands on the back of Josh's head, and pulled him down ever further, so that their tongues had no choice but to intertwine. Josh unbuckled Tyler's jeans and slid them down to his knees, and then his hands found his way up to Tyler's torso, pushing his shirt up so that it bundled up around his armpits. Neither of them wanted to break off the kiss, as the air between them was so different, but so much better than their previous kisses.

Tyler kicked his jeans the rest of the way off, but let his T-shirt stay bundled up, only breaking off the kiss to take a breath. Josh's pants came off as well, but his shirt still stayed on. He was simply hovering over Tyler, and it took everything in him not to just start grinding down like he previously would have done. 

Finally, though, the kiss was broken off as Josh removed both his and Tyler's shirt. He kissed down Tyler's neck, both of their lips pulsing from where the applied pressure had been. He delicately made his way down Tyler's body, stopping at his torso to pay extra attention to his ribcage, his chest, and his belly.

Josh looked up at Tyler, and waited patiently for his attention. When Tyler realized that Josh had stopped kissing him, he raised his head to see Josh sitting there with a very serious look on his face. It made his insides go cold, and his heart skip a beat. 

Josh crawled back up so that he was right above Tyler's face, and he kissed him softly yet again.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered hotly.

Tyler shook his head, "'m not beautiful." His head was spinning, and his chest rose and fell with ease, taking in the hot air that was all around them. 

Josh kissed right below Tyler's ear, biting down softly. Tyler let out a low moan. 

"Yes you are. Most beautiful man I've ever seen."

But Tyler shook his head yet again - he was too stubborn for his own good. 

"'M not."

Josh kissed him fiercely, and it was a bit different from the softness.

He broke the kiss off, placing one of his hands on Tyler's cheek and holding his head in place so that he couldn't look away from Josh.

"You are to me. I mean it."

Tyler sighed deeply, and Josh kissed him yet again, but it was soft again, and Tyler's heart was so full he was sure he was going to explode at any moment. 

Josh took his mouth from Tyler's, and brought two fingers up, inserting them between his lips, all the while maintaining eye contact with Tyler. He watched him carefully, as Josh's cheeks hollowed, sucking his fingers in deep. He took them out and brought them down between Tyler's legs, pressing one cold finger at his entrance. 

Tyler spread his legs wide and let Josh push his finger in, hardly meeting any resistance. Tyler let his eyes flutter close, and he let out a soft moan, as Josh worked the one finger in and out. As Josh began to insert a second finger, he brought his lips down to Tyler's ear.

"I wanna make you feel beautiful," He whispered. 

When Tyler opened his heavy eyes, he could immediately see how serious Josh was being. He let out another involuntary moan and splayed his hands on Josh's back, as the man kissed at his neck, the little bites giving Tyler the sweetest combination of pain and pleasure. 

Josh inserted a third finger, now pumping faster, and Tyler threw his head back. Josh's fingers were good, but Tyler knew of something else that was even better.

"Josh," Tyler breathed. Josh brought his head up to look at Tyler.

"I - I need you," He pleaded, his eyes flicking to Josh's length which was just as hard as Tyler's. 

Josh kissed him lightly, "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

Tyler bit his lip, and desperately tried to keep tears from falling. 

"I'll always take care of you."

Alas, Tyler was unsuccessful. One tear fell from his eye, and then as if the floodgates were open, tears started to stream down his cheeks. 

Josh placed one hand on the side of his face, a look of concern apparent.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

Tyler gulped, trying to regain his composure. Josh had taken his fingers from inside Tyler and wiped them on the side of the bed, waiting for a reply.

"I just - I've never," He took a staccato-ed breath, "Never done this with - with someone like you." 

It took him a second, but when Josh understood, he kissed the tear tracks from his cheeks. 

Tyler wiped his eyes and looked up at Josh, some of his wet eyelashes sticking together, and really, he was just so beautiful. 

"Sorry," He mumbled.

Josh kissed the tip of his nose, "Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Their lips locked, and Tyler returned his hands to Josh's back, loving the way the muscles moved beneath his grip. 

Josh took a bottle of lube from where Tyler had it conveniently placed atop his nightstand, and coated his cock with it, resisting the urge to thrust into his hand right then and there. 

He leaned forward, lining himself up with Tyler.

"You ready?" He asked.

Tyler simply nodded, and dug his nails into Josh's back when he felt any and all emotion lift from his chest as Josh entered carefully. Once he was fully inside, he began thrusting the same way he always did - except this time it was different. His thrusts were deep and passionate, rather than shallow and quick. Tyler cried loudly as Josh's thrusts only got faster and faster, then harder and harder. Another tear escaped his eye and Josh kissed him hard, matching the feeling in the air.

Tyler's hands shook, but he had never felt so safe and secure. Josh chased the knot in his gut, his thrusts getting sloppier despite his best efforts to keep them succinct. 

Tyler chanted Josh's name under his breath, and Josh groaned deeply into his ear as he shot everything right into Tyler, causing him to squirm a bit at the sudden, new feeling. Tyler brought his hand down to let himself go as well, with only a few strokes.

With one last, uncoordinated kiss, Josh collapsed beside Tyler and shut his eyes tight, taking a deep breath. 

Tyler looked over to Josh, and watched him breathe deeply in and out. His sleeve tattoo stood out bright against the dimness of the room, and the darkness coming from the window. Tyler looked down at his own tattoos and sighed. 

But, for the first time, when he looked up at his ceiling, he didn't have to wonder if God could hear him.

"Josh?"

Josh immediately opened his eyes, turning towards the instrumentalist.

"Yeah?"

But instead of saying what he felt in his heart, he scooted closer towards Josh and kissed him, despite his lips being almost raw by now. 

"Can you stay with me tonight?" He asked after a minute. 

Josh nodded, "I'd love to."

And for once, when Tyler fell asleep, the hole in his heart wasn't empty. In fact, he couldn't even remember what being empty felt like. But how could he when the personification of warmth and security was holding him tight throughout the night?

....

Tyler was not one for the Christmas time. Don't get him wrong, he adored the twinking lights that small shops would put up in their display windows, and the colorful bulbs that the city would wrap around the trees downtown, and he could wear his beanie, his gloves, and his scarf without people questioning him. 

And he loved his family. He really did.

But it got a bit tiresome having to explain to each family member year after year why the spots on his skin won't just go away - yes, he's tried lotion, no he won't try steroids, and no, it's not contagious. 

It was even worse when his mother would take them out to eat somewhere and try to set Tyler up with the cute waiter, or get him to talk to the friendly neighbor. 

But other than that, Christmas time was a blast, and Tyler was setting mistletoe up in his hallway when his mother called for what might've been the fourth time that day.

"Hello?" He answered. 

"Hey, Ty, guess who's newly single!"

Tyler took the phone from his ear and checked the caller ID: _Mom_.

"Who?" He asked, drawing out the last syllable.

"One of my co-worker's sons. He's really-"

"No, mom, please not this again."

"Tyler, I'm serious-"

"So am I, mom."

She paused and Tyler could hear a huff from the other side of the line. 

"I think I," Tyler looked around his home, despite knowing that he was the only one there, "I think I met someone."

There was a gasp, "Really? You have?"

"Yeah," Tyler chuckled. 

"Oh, I'm so glad. Have you invited him over for Christmas?"

Tyler looked down at his feet, scuffing his toes against the carpet. 

"Um. Well, no-"

"What!"

"Well, he has his own family, mom, I doubt he'd want to spend the holidays with me. Plus, we've only been... seeing each other for a few months."

His mother hummed in thought on the other line, "Well, then, sweetheart, it's your call. But I would recommend inviting him over. I'd love to meet him."

Tyler thought of Josh, and thought of how well he would get along with everyone. He thought of how conversation between Josh and his parents would flow naturally, and how he would probably make his siblings laugh. Josh was amicable - there was no doubt about it. 

"I'll think about it. In the meantime, have you and dad decided on whose making dinner for everyone?"

"Well, your father says he wants to do it, but I'll probably end up doing it either way. Oh-" there was a loud crash on the other side of the line, "Good Lord, I'm going to have to call you back, sweetheart. My new shelf just collapsed. I knew I put too many knickknacks on it."

Tyler chuckled, "Alright, mom. I'll talk to you later."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

Tyler hung up, and tossed his phone onto the couch, reaching back up to the ceiling to hang up more mistletoe. He finished hanging up a few pieces, and then took a picture with his phone, sending it to Josh. 

He got a reply within the minute.

_Josh: What a convenient decoration ;) you busy tonight?_

_Tyler: Nope. Wanna come over?_

_Josh: Be there in an hour :)_

And Josh was true to his word. He showed up with two bags worth of Chinese takeout and a large grin on his face. 

Tyler took him to the hallway immediately, kissing him right under the mistletoe, a smile on both of their faces. Tyler didn't know exactly why they were smiling, but it just felt nice. 

Josh placed his hands on Tyler's hips, wrapping his strong arms around him. Tyler broke off the kiss, but didn't want to move from this position.

"What are your plans for Christmas?" He asked. 

Josh thought for a second, "I'm going up to my parents' to spend it with my family. Why?"

Tyler shrugged, "My mom wants to meet you."

"You talk to your mom about me?" Josh asked, chuckling.

Tyler pushed at his chest, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you," Josh said, holding Tyler tight, so that he couldn't leave, "I just didn't know that you spoke of me to your family." 

Tyler looked down at where their bodies met in the middle.

"Do you tell your family about me?"

Josh nodded even though Tyler wasn't looking at him, "Since the first day we had a real conversation."

Tyler sighed and buried his face in Josh's neck. 

"So will you come over?"

Josh chuckled, "Well, if your mom wants me to, then I guess I can't say no."

Tyler looked up, "Really? You would actually want to come spend Christmas with me?" 

"Of course. I love spending time with you." Josh looked deeply into Tyler's eyes, and there was that feeling in his heart again. 

"Let's eat," Tyler said after a moment, taking Josh's arms from around him and heading back into the living room. 

They watched cable and ate the food Josh had brought, and if Tyler noticed Josh's subtle stares directed towards him, he didn't say anything. 

....

Josh spent Christmas eve with his own family, but joined Tyler's family for Christmas day. 

The season was, of course, hectic, but when Tyler walked in the door of his old home on Christmas Eve, he felt comforted by the familiar presence of the familiar faces.

"Hey, Tyler's here!"

"Tyler!"

"Hey, Ty!"

He was greeted by his brothers, his sister and parents, and even a few friends who had arrived early. The living room was warm, the kitchen was warmer and Tyler breathed deeply. He always forgot how much he loved being around his family. 

"Tell me about this boy you've been seeing," His mother asked him as he was getting ready for bed. Tyler tugged a large sweatshirt over his head.

"You're gonna meet him tomorrow, y'know."

She entered Tyler's old room and sat down on the edge of his bed, "I know. But I can't even remember the last time you were in an actual relationship. I want to hear more about him." She patted a spot beside her, and Tyler sat down, putting his chin in his hands.

He sighed, "His name is Josh."

She chuckled and looked at him, "Is that all?"

Tyler looked to the ground and shrugged. 

A moment passed.  

"Is he good to you?" She asked in a soft tone.

Tyler bit his lip and nodded, "Yeah. Really good."

His mom pulled him in to a hug, and Tyler's heart clenched. She took a deep breath, and Tyler knew exactly what she was thinking. He knew all of the questions she was going to ask, and he knew why she was asking. 

He really shouldn't've held any information back - she just wanted to know that her son was being taken care of. Especially since Tyler was not exactly known for taking good care of himself.

"What's he like?" She asked.

Tyler thought for a second, "He's... probably the most kind person I've ever met. And understanding. He... I like him a lot." Tyler took himself from his mom's embrace and picked his knees up so that they were against his chest.

His mom looked into his eyes, and could almost see the next question in the air. 

"Do you love him?"

Tyler took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the floor. He knew what he felt in his heart and what he felt in his lungs when Josh was around. He was on top of the world, but also in the deepest pits of the ocean. He was flying, falling, crying, singing, dancing, sitting. It was an indescribable feeling. But he didn't want to admit it to anyone. Almost as if there was a shadow that hovered right behind him every moment of the day, just waiting for him to admit his feelings only to destroy them.

And Tyler wasn't ready to be destroyed. 

So he shrugged. His heart didn't shrug, but his shoulders did.

His mother put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "That's okay, sweetheart. It all comes with time."

She stood up and kissed him on the forehead, wishing him a goodnight. 

He tucked himself into bed, and his eyes were closed when his phone chirped with a notification.

_Josh: Goodnight, Tyler :) I'll see you tomorrow_

_Tyler: Goodnight, Josh._

And Tyler's hear didn't shrug.

....

It was almost noon by the time Josh knocked on the front door. Tyler stayed in the kitchen, helping his mother by chopping vegetables, listening to the chatter in the living room.

"You must be Josh!"

"Yes, I am!"

"I'm Kelly, Tyler's mom. It's so nice to meet you. Tyler has told us so much about you."

Tyler dropped the knife, and there was silence as it clattered on the tiled flooring. His mother rushed in, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just slipped. Sorry."

Josh appeared around the corner, and a smile quickly grew on his face when he made eye contact with Tyler. 

"Hey," He greeted, giving him a peck on the lips.

"Hi," Tyler looked at Josh's rosy cheeks and red nose, "Is it cold out there?"

"Freezing," He replied, shivering for emphasis. 

"Stay here with me, then. It's warm by the oven."

And so Josh helped Tyler cut vegetables, threw them into a pot and turned the heat onto high. Tyler slapped his hand away, because you're not supposed to turn it on high, you're supposed to let it simmer on low.

Josh was only slightly confused, and with a mock frown, he turned the heat down to it's lowest setting. When his mother left to ask her husband where he had last seen the recipe book, Josh snuck a kiss. 

Tyler pushed at his chest and reprimanded him with a smile. 

Josh snuck another kiss, but this time Tyler didn't push him away.

His mother was about to enter the kitchen again, but when she saw their private smiles, their private laughs, and the sacred memories they were creating, she figured they could finish the recipe themselves. 

....

"Tyler? Can I tell you something?" Josh asked that night when they were cuddled tight in Tyler's childhood bed. It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning, as their present opening had run unusually long. But everyone was in high spirits, and their game of charades afterwards made Tyler laugh so hard he had to stop his turn mid-way, so no one checked the time too often. Eventually, everyone gathered into another room and practically begged Tyler to play them a song. He didn't play them A#, C#, A#, C#, G#, but he did play them another original song that they all clapped for at the end.

Everything was warm, and for that night (and maybe more nights to come) Tyler had forgotten all about his beanie, his gloves, and his scarf. He didn't feel exposed. He felt light. 

Tyler turned so that he was now facing Josh, and their faces were so close that they could each feel every tiny, insignificant breath. 

He evaluated Josh for a second before responding, "Is it what I think you're going to tell me?"

Josh nodded.

"Tell me."

He kissed Tyler softly on the lips, and when he pulled back, Tyler realized for the first time just how large Josh's eyes truly were. 

"I love you," He confessed, in the dark. 

And it was only really in that moment that Tyler knew he was ready to be destroyed.

"I love you, too."

Josh's eyes widened, "Really? You do?"

Tyler chuckled, "Really, I do."

Josh kissed him again, with more force this time. 

Later, when Tyler would sit towards the back of the stage and let his heart play the piano for him, he would look out at the crowd and see hundreds of faces he didn't recognize. But when he locked eyes with a man with bright pink hair, he didn't have to wonder who it was or why he was there. 

The pianist still wore his beanie (he did not like the premature grey hairs), but he would not wear gloves or a scarf. 

And he would take a deep breath, he would think of love, and wondered why he ever feared it in the first place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Questions, comments and/or concerns are appreciated as always.  
> My tumblr is Clinicallyforgotten , so feel free to send in an ask or a prompt.  
> Stay safe, friends.


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